


Damage

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-05
Updated: 2004-03-05
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Set after AtS s05e11 Damage (Who would have guessed? *g*)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, trying to get back on the horse here. Been going really slow, it keeps throwing me off. Anyway [](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/profile)[**evilmaniclaugh**](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/) told me it was good enough to post so here it goes. As always positive feedback is welcome, grumpy people can mutter to themselves in a corner.

He stands there looking at me, hovering like a shadow of gloom. I hate letting hi...anyone see me like this. It's like I'm disappearing into the nothingness of white. White walls, white sheets, white bandages, white gown, white hair and skin almost translucent from bloodloss. Didn't expect him to come by, unless to gloat. Not that I'd ever tell him but his presence is somehow soothing. He looks tired, washed out. Guess last nights events rattled him as much as me. Well, at least he came out of it in one piece. Instead he has still another lost soul to brood over.  
  
"She's an innocent victim." Course he has to see her like that. Well...

"So were we... once upon a time."

"Once upon a time." And then he looks at me, shoulders hunched, the years of guilt and shame reflected in his eyes. Bugger. Angel, don't go there. Don't wanna hear it. Any of it.  
  
"Spike, I..."  
  
"Don't!" Please. Just leave it alone. Leave me alone. Alone with these bloody useless hands that can't even cover my eyes.

"I'm sorry." And we both know he's not talking about Dana and her butcher games.

"Shut up! Will you just...just shut up, Angel." Damn, my voice is cracking up.  
  
He sighs and his huge caveman shoulders drop even further. The whole world of evil usually weighs him down, but today my existence is all it takes. He turns around heading for the door. Heavy, tired steps. Just two more and he's gone and I can be here alone. With my thoughts and my self-hatred. Just one more, please. Take that step. Don't stop. But he does and I hear him take a deep breath. The look on his face when he turns back would kill me if I weren't already dead.

"You know, I never had much of a life anyway. But you..."he sighs again and his eyes drop to the floor, "I took everything from you, Will. I wish..I just want you to know I regret it."

For a moment I just stare at him. I knew, but I never, ever wanted to hear it. Not that he hasn't been hinting as much, with all the punching and ignoring, but... Why the hell do I feel so hurt then?

"You...regret it? Well, piss off Angel! Get the fuck out of here, or I'll ..." And I stop 'cus I know I'm in no position to be threatening anything. "Just go."

He stands there like a hurt puppy, a look of deep confusion on his face. "Why are you...?" Oh, bollocks. Doesn't he get it? I can't believe he wants me to spell it out for him. Well, I'm not gonna. I just can't go there. Now would be the perfect time to storm out, but... bloody useless fucked up body. For an eternity we stare at each until I turn my head and stare at the wall instead. Ignoring him might make him go away. I can almost hear his two braincells turning and tumbling, trying to figure out what I'm talking about.  
  
In the end he sighs again and turns away. "I know it's far too late, I just..." Finally, he's going. Well that's what he's good at. Not like I give a fuck, so I'm not gonna...

"You are so... bloody... stupid." Bugger, does my mouth ever listen to my brain?

"What?" He turns to look at me again. The blank in his eyes makes me even angrier.

"You really think I blame you for killing me?"  
  
"But I..."

"You really think that's what this is about?" You stupid pathetic excuse for a Sire. "Don't you dare telling me you're sorry! Don't you dare telling me...you regret me."  
  
"I didn't..."

"Not like I didn't know you hate me. Probably dug out your best whisky to celebrate my death, since you couldn't really dance on my grave."

"Spike..."

"You work so hard at forgetting your past, forgetting what you are, what we were. Well, you know what? I remember every-sodding-thing."

That makes him cringe. He looks away and I can just about smell the shame radiating from him.

"Yeah, that's right mate. No amnesia here. But then again, you did brand it in my memory. Master. _Daddy_." He flinches but that doesn't stop his pecker from reacting. Guess some things are too hard to forget. Pun intended.

"Not that I objected." I continue, cursing my voice for shaking. "Wouldn't have done me much good, but then again you knew how much I wanted it, wanted...you." I say that last word softly, hoping for some kind of reaction, but he still wont look at me. Well, fuck him then.

"And you used that. Making me beg for your attention, your time, your love. Which was all I ever wanted. Love. From you, from anyone." God, this is pathetic. I'm pathetic.

"It wasn't ..." he whispers.

"No, right. I keep forgetting that. You're not Angelus. An' I'm not Spike? Yeah, right. The base of it... the core... it's all you, Liam." That finally gets a reaction from him as he looks up with pleading eyes.

"Spike, please..."

"Please what? Please don't talk about the good old times? Please don't remind me of our sordid past? Please don't tell anyone?"

"Please don't do this to yourself." Trying to sound as if you care now? Well, sod it.

"I'm not doing anything, mate. It was all done a long time ago. You did this to me. You made me an' without you I was nothing. You left me, Angel! You bloody well left me. I would have followed you to the end of the world, soul or no soul. That's how much you meant to me. An' now you're telling me that means nothing to you? I mean nothing to you? You bloody regret me?"

And finally I see it, like a little light coming on in his thick stupid head. For a long time we just stare in silence, and I'm hating my hands cuz I can't wipe my pathetic tears away. And then he turns and walks out. He. Walks. Out. That's how much it matters to him. I can't help growling with frustration as I bang my head against the headboard, closing my eyes against the flood of tears.  
  
\-----------------------------

I thought they'd never let me out of that bloody hospital. You'd reckon in a place like that they'd at least give you human blood, but nooo. Wankers. Fred came by once to cheer me up, but there's been no sign of the great poof. Well, bugger him. Can't say I'm particularly happy to be back in that funky basement though. It probably stinks worse than before, there was pizza in a box on the floor when I left. I manage to open the door after some fumbling with the keys. It swings open but for a long time I just stand there, staring.  
  
The place is clean. It has a nice leather sofa, a big screen TV, and more importantly, a huge incredibly comfortable looking bed. And it doesn't stink of molded pizza, it smells of Sire. I don't know what to think. Is this some sort of apology? Well he can kiss my... That's when I see it. A folded piece of paper, lying on the bed. I walk over slowly, pick it up and with trembling hands manage to unfold it. It's a drawing of me, sleeping in that hospital bed. Did I really look so lost? My hands start to tremble even more and the paper flutters from my fingers and lands upside down on the bed. I'd recognize that writing anywhere.

"You were right. I did drink my best whisky when I heard you died. It tasted like ashes."

fin  



End file.
